Death-Mist
by canis lupus familiaris
Summary: After a series of deaths in Forks, the Winchesters come in to investigate. Not the best synopsis, but read to find out more.
1. Chapter 1

Oddly enough, I got the inspiration for this story while reading Ode to the West Wind by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Disclaimer: all original plot and characters belong to their original creators, everything else belongs to me.

Chapter 1

Numbness...a memory of searing pain...physical pain?...no...not physical pain...intense...all consuming pain...and numbness...and darkness.

…...

Pitter-patter...light and continual...a light current of air gently caressing...but cold...oh, so cold...uncontrollable shaking...and darkness.

…...

A hazy awareness seeps through.

The smell of damp forest saturates the air with the occasional drip...drip...drip of water droplets falling from leaf to leaf until eventually landing with a soft plop on the damp forest floor.

A light drizzle begins and intensifies gradually until morphing into a light rain, filling the forest with the steady sound of rain.

Shifting her attention from the forest around her, Bella groggily realizes that she is curled tightly on the forest floor. The ground beneath her is covered in decaying, wet leaves and twigs. Her clothes, soaked through from the rain, cling to her skin but she no longer feels the cold that was so persistent before. Somewhere in the back of her mind alarms sound off, but the numbness that engulfs her mind soon quiets them to a low buzzing.

Sluggishly opening her eyes, moonlight filters through the forest canopy and fills the small clearing with soft ambient light.

A deep, aching weariness suffuses her body and she remains curled on the drenched forest floor. Tiredly closing her eyes again, she halfheartedly attempts to remember why she is here.

The sound of weeping filters through the steady rain and the smell of vanilla and bad eggs (sulfur, her mind absently corrects) tickles her nose.

Frowning, Bella once again opens her eyes and tiredly scans the small clearing for the source of the weeping. Just at the edge of her vision she makes out the shape of a figure.

With more effort than it should have required, Bella tilts her head slightly to get a better look at the figure kneeling at the edge of the small clearing. Just out of her reach, if she had the strength to reach out.

Squinting slightly through the rain to get a better look at the crying woman, the first thing Bella notices, aside from the constant weeping, are her swollen knees. Frowning slightly, Bella's eyes roam over the woman and take in her pallid, emaciated appearance. Her thin shoulders appear to be covered thickly with dust, and this tidbit strikes her as odd. It takes her a couple of sluggish moments to realize that the thick dust covering the woman's shoulders is completely dry.

Slowly sweeping her gaze over the small clearing once more, Bella notes that it is still raining but when her gaze lands once more on the frail woman, not a single rain drop lands on her.

She is completely dry.

Perplexed, Bella continues to observe the weeping woman. A thin neck protrudes from the shoulders to a bowed face covered by two bony hands with long, unkempt nails. Jet-back hair cascades down her back with a few strands falling over her shoulders.

In the ambient moonlight she seems to glow.

Opening her mouth to speak, Bella tries several times to call out to the weeping woman before she can make a sound. Faintly, almost too quiet to hear, Bella calls out "Hello?"

Silence descends on the clearing. The sound of chattering teeth drifts through the steady rain.

Slowly the woman lifts her head from her emaciated hands. A dark reddish substance covers her cheeks. When she opens her eyes, they are a deep black. Not just her pupils and irises, but also where the whites of her eyes should have been. Nothing but darkness fills her eyes.

She tilts her head slightly as she studies Bella. Seconds tick by without a word said and Bella soon loses track of how long they stare at each other.

Restless, Bella quietly asks "Are you hurt?"

Again she is met by the sound of chattering teeth and staring black eyes.

Sighing softly, Bella shifts and slowly unwinds her curled, numb body. Gingerly pushing herself up from the wet, decaying leaves until she is sitting, Bella sighs again. She is so tired and moving has sapped her of most of her remaining strength. Allowing her chin to fall to her chest and permitting her eyes to slide shut once more, Bella attempts to call on her already depleted reservoir of strength.

Breathing in deeply, Bella opens her eyes and wearily lifts her head. Meeting unblinking, jet-black eyes, Bella opens her mouth to speak and is cut off by a high pitched wail.

Startled, Bella stares at the woman in shock as the high pitched wail gradually grows louder and turns into a high pitched scream. The screaming woman lunges at her and Bella's vision is filled with black smoke and the acrid taste of sulfur engulfs her sense of smell and taste.

Pain and sadness explodes through her senses and she violently attempts to fight against the onslaught.

Terror fills her as she feels herself losing the battle for control over her own body.

With one final, desperate shove, Bella pushes off the force attempting to extinguish what's left of her and hides behind the shield that made her appear silent to Edward's invasive gift.

Then all she know is darkness.

Author's note: All mistakes are my own, constructive criticism is welcome and thank you for taking the time to read this story.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Once again, the original plots and characters belong to their respective creators and the rest belongs to me.

Author's note: To all those who follow this story and have it in your favorites, Thank You.

There will be deaths in this chapter, not quite what I would call graphic, though some might. So just a heads up. If you don't want to read about a person or two dying, please stop reading here... to all those who continue...enjoy.

Chapter 2

Sadness...deep and encompassing presses against her shield like the slow ebb and flow of a tide. Back and forth it tests and prods attempting to find a weakness, a hold, to worm its way through. Minutes or decades pass as the soul deep sadness continues to search for a weakness in the shield.

Curled tightly in the gentle warmth of her shield she watches as the darkness continues to glide over her lucent shield, applying pressure as is goes but never breaking through. Over and over it attempts to enter but can never find purchase.

As the darkness recedes once more she hesitantly pushes against her shield, watching in awe as her ambient shield expands, filling the space relinquished by the darkness.

Alarm swirls through the darkness and it surges to meet her expanding shield. Crashing into the lucent shield, the darkness spreads over it and only succeeds in pushing her shield back minutely. Warmth seeps through her at the thought of expelling the darkness.

Shoving forcefully against her shield she manages to push back the darkness, doubling her previous success before her progress is brought to a grinding halt. Throwing as much force as she can into her shield, she struggles against the darkness but only succeeds in tiring herself and the shield being pushed back a bit.

Redoubling its efforts, the darkness crashes again and again against her shield but she refuses to relinquish her conquest. All meaning of time ceases and all she is aware of is the continual assault.

Resting within the confines of her shield, she watches its frantic attacks gradually calm until the darkness once again lethargically glides over her shield searching for a way in.

Still, she waits. Knowing the darkness is unable to reach her, she studies it. Each move it makes is searching. The misery and sadness she felt earlier is still present, but is now laced with a growing hunger.

The darkness draws back and still she waits. Its hunger increases.

And increases.

She waits.

Ravenous, it attempts once more to break through only to be stopped by the shield.

Still she waits.

And waits, until finally, its attention shifts.

Hunger drives it. An intense hunger washes over her. A hunger she knows is not her own.

Safe in the confines of her shield she watches as it searches, hunts, for food. Absently, she notices the thing is hunting by moonlight.

Impressions of a small single story homely house flash before her and she realizes the thing, entity, has stopped before a house. Misery pours from the house. Its hunger flares. Willing itself to the source of the strongest misery, the creature enters the room of a girl.

Familiarity washes over her at the sight of the sleeping girl. Vague images flash before her. Struggling to remember, the images solidify. The girl talking, laughing, smiling. The girl, Jessica, she remembers, meeting her on her first day of school and Jessica showing her around. Images of Jessica and another girl... Angela... shopping for a dress. Memories of her time with Jessica swirl around her.

Abruptly her attention is drawn back to the room as a pale hand reaches out to caress the sleeping girl's head. Soft, pained sounds emanate from the sleeping girl. Jessica shifts in her sleep and begins to curl in on herself.

Satisfaction pours through the entity as it succeeds in subtly influencing Jessica's emotions. As her emotions darken and she drowns in her misery and sadness, the creature begins to siphon the sadness and misery from Jessica.

The hunger decreases.

Horror pulses through her at the sight of Jessica's pale, healthy skin draining of color and when her eyes snap open and begin to mist over, her horror increases and she slams against her shield trying to stop the monster from killing the girl. Again and again she slams against the shield but is unable to stop it from killing Jessica.

The hunger decreases, but it is still hungry. Transferring its attention to the only other occupant in the house, it wills itself to Jessica's sleeping mother.

Screaming, she throws all her force into her shield but is once again forced to watch helplessly as the thing feeds on the innocent woman. The color drains from the woman's body and when her eyes open there is still an awareness in them. Terror fills her eyes as she stares up at the thing. "Bella?" she whispers in confusion and fear. With a sudden intake of air, her eyes mist over and she sighs as all life leaves her and she stares on in blank confusion and fear.

It feels sated.

She feels cold

Turning from its victim, it passes by the dresser mirror and she catches the fleeting image of a pale girl with dark hair. It leaves the house and she knows no more.

Authors note: Thank you for reading and feel free to drop a review, as always constructive criticism is welcome, rudeness will be ignore.

Update schedule for this story will be an update every other week, sooner if I manage to finish a chapter early, but to give me a bit of leeway, every other week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Obviously I don't own Twilight or Supernatural and any and all original plot or characters from Supernatural and Twilight belong to their respective creators, but the rest belongs to me.

**Author's note**: I am sincerely sorry about the lateness of this update. There were many false starts with this chapter, a lot of writing and erasing. In my mind I knew exactly what I wanted to write, but when it came to actually writing the chapter, I just couldn't seem to find the right words. As a reward for your patience, I give you a 1,921 word chapter. Enjoy.

Chapter 3

The deep rumble of a classic American muscle car rumbles through the rain announcing its arrival long before it is seen. Sleek, black, and obviously well cared for, a 1967 Chevy Impala glides down the road and up to the small town police station. Parking in front of the precinct, the engine cuts and two tall men in near identical suits exit the Impala and enter the station.

…...

Chief Charlie Swan tiredly stares at the reports on his desk. The latest death to rock the small town of Forks, Washington was that of a transient staying at the Forks Motel. With the similarities between the Stanleys' deaths and this new death, the people of Forks were beginning to fearfully whisper about a serial killer in their midst. He prayed to God that this was not the case, but the similarities between the two cases could not be overlooked. The manner in which they died was identical. The same poison was used and they were all found wide eyed in their beds.

This sort of thing just did not happen in Forks...and yet it was.

Wearily Charlie ran his callused hand over his face and through his hair. Over his long career as a Forks police officer he had gone to any and all extra training he could find that would be in anyway beneficial to his job of protecting the people of Forks. He had even had the opportunity to become an FBI agent, but his home was here. His heart was here. He couldn't leave.

Sighing, Charlie once again reviews each detail from both crime scenes looking for anything he might have missed the first few hundred times he went over the files. So immersed in the crime scenes, he jumps when someone knocks on his door.

Looking up, Charlie offers an exhausted smile to Sarah.

"Chief, there are two FBI agents here asking to see you. Do you want me to sent them in?"

Exhaling, Charlie again runs a hand through his hair and says "Sure, send them in."

As the two men walk into his office, Charlie stands and extends his hand, "Chief Charlie Swan, how can I help you boys?"

Sarah closes the door to his office on her way out and the tallest of the two answers, "Agents Gabriel and Collins sir" as they shake his offered hand.

Charlie gestures to the two chairs in front of his desk as he sinks back into his own chair. "So what brings you boys out to Forks?" Charlie asks.

"The recent deaths have caught the eye of the FBI and we were sent to assist in any way we can. We are not here to step on any toes sir. Just here to help catch the person or persons responsible for these deaths." Agent Gabriel replies after he and the other agent take their seat.

Leaning back in his chair Charlie takes a moment to assess the two men. Both men are tall, over 6 foot, well built, attractive, in their mid to late 20s and give off the vibe of ex-military, marines perhaps. Neither can be mistaken for basic infantry men and both exude the vibe of being able to take care of themselves, perhaps ex-special forces.

Sighing, Charlie leans forward and rests his elbows on his desk. "Have there been any other similar cases like this anywhere else in the country?" Charlie asks.

"As far as we can tell, nothing like this sir."Agent Collins replies.

Frowning, Charlie wonders why the FBI would insert itself into an investigation so early on with just three deaths, granted near identical deaths, but nonetheless, only three deaths and without an invite from the local authorities. Technically, he would still retain full control of the investigation, but this could be the laying of foundation for the FBI to come in and take over later on and shut him out completely if this turned into something more.

Frustration wells within him.

He could use the extra help and these boys would be a valuable asset. If this turned out to be something bigger, well the FBI _**was**_ already here and they can call in extra support if need be. He just hopped they found the son of a bitch that was doing this soon and stopped him before another person died. If he played nice with these boys now and the FBI took control later, they might not lock him out of the investigation completely.

Giving the boys another appraising stare, Charlie sighs and hands over the reports he had been reviewing before their arrival. As agents Collins and Gabriel read through the files, Charlie begins to brief them on the cases.

"As far as we can tell, there is no former connection between Mr. Jefferson and the Stanleys. They never met and the only connection between them is the manner of their deaths. Mr. Jefferson is a college drop out with not living relatives to speak of and from what I could find, recently lost his girlfriend and unborn child in a drunk driving accident. By the state of the room he was renting at Forks Motel, it is safe to assume that he was suffering from depression. Most likely caused by the deaths of his girlfriend and child. Soon after their deaths he dropped out of college.

As for the Stanleys, Melissa and her daughter Jessica have lived here their whole lives. They were well liked by the people here. Combing through their records, they were suffering some financial difficulty but other than that everything seems to be normal. Well as normal as can be after the recent divorce."

At this agent Collins looks up from the file he was perusing and opens his mouth to speak but Charlie raises his hand and forestalls him. "I already looked into David, Mr. Stanley" he clarifies, "and there is nothing there to tie him to the deaths. The divorce was messy and he lost all custody of Jessica. There were a few disturbance calls from the Stanley residence when he showed up there drunk and delirious, but he left town a month and a half ago. In fact he left the state of Washington and went back East."

"The Stanleys were found by a family friend and Mr. Jefferson was found by one of the motel staff. We know for a fact these cases are connected. The poison found in their systems was identical but tests were unable to identify what type of poison was used."

Running his hand through his hair, Charlie leans back in his chair and continues on. "Because of the poison found in all of the victims, the deaths of the Stanleys and Mr. Jefferson have been ruled homicide. At the scenes of both crimes the smell of vanilla and bad eggs permeates only the rooms where the bodies were found and residue found at both scenes came back as sulfur."

At this both boys subtly start and quickly glance at each other. Had he not been watching them closely, he would have missed the interaction. His eyes narrowed.

They knew something.

Silence descends on the office. "In the interest of solving these murders before someone else dies, it would be best if both parties share all they know." Charlie sternly says.

Collins and Gabriel's eyes widen.

"Sir, we know as much about this case as you do" agent Gabriel says.

Charlie continues to stare at them not completely convinced.

"Judging by your thoroughness, murders are not very common here are they?" Agent Collins quickly asks.

"No...no they are not" Charlie replies, still regarding the boys with suspicion. "No...deaths around here are usually from old age, illness, or the occasional hunting accident.

Both boys nod.

"Have there been any other uncommon occurrences in the past few months?" Agent Collins asks.

Charlie remains silent for a few moments. Unsure of how this could possibly pertain to the recent murders, Charlie is hesitant to share, but it would be hypocritical of him not to after chastising them for not sharing what they knew.

"My daughter Isabella went missing September 15 of last year" Charlie finally replies.

"I'm sorry sir. Was there any leads in her case?" Agent Gabriel asks.

"There was a massive search in the forest behind my house for weeks, but we didn't find any trace of her. The only physical piece of evidence left behind was a note that said she was going for a walk with her boyfriend on the path behind our house." Charlie says.

"What did her boyfriend have to say when you questioned him?" Agent Gabriel asks while agent Collins frowned and simultaneously asked "you said a note was left, what do you mean? Did she leave the note or did someone else leave it?"

Charlie focuses on Collins. "I know my daughter's handwriting. Although it was very similar to her's, it was not her handwriting. Someone else, I'm assuming Edward, wrote the note and left it on my table."

"Edward, her boyfriend?" Gabriel asks. Charlie nods. "Why would you assume it was her boyfriend who left the note?" he asks.

"When I got home that night her truck was in the driveway with her backpack in the cab but she wasn't there, I called her cell and when I couldn't reach her I called the Cullen's house. There was no answer so I called the Fork's Hospital were Carlisle, the boy's father worked, and was told that Carlisle resigned the day before and took a job in Los Angeles. I drove out to their house but found it empty."

Charlie runs both hands over his face and through his hair and sees both men give him sympathetic looks.

"I organized a search party, but we found nothing in the forest. I called all the hospitals in LA county and quite a few in the surrounding counties but found no doctors going by the name of Carlisle Cullen or his description. I ran an in-depth background check on every member of his family, but it seems they were all living here under aliases. Carlisle told me he was from Alaska but I couldn't find any record of him or his family in any Alaskan hospital, clinic or school. I did find a man that fit his description, but it could not of been him. There was too much of an age difference between them to be Carlisle. About two and a half months after Bells disappeared the Stanleys were murdered."

Silence reigns for a few moments before agent Gabriel says, "we know a pretty good Technical Analyst who can look into the Cullens further if you want" he offers, "we would just need any information you gathered on them so far for her to go over."

Charlie smiles genuinely for the first time in months. "I would really appreciate that. I'll have Sarah make you boys a copy of everything I have on the Cullens and the files pertaining to the Stanley and Jefferson deaths."

The agents stand and shake his hand, as they turn to leave his office agent Collins turns back and asks him "Could you tell us were we can get a good slice of pie around here?"

Agent Gabriel rolls his eyes and Charlie smiles. "That would be The Dinner, across the street from the Forks motel, they sell the best pie around here aside from my Bella's homemade apple pie."

**Author's note: **I own up to any and all mistakes made in this chapter, I reviewed it a few times and posted as soon as I finished writing it. To all those who continue to read this story, Thank you and feel free to drop a review telling me your thoughts of the story so far, I am not a mind reader...though for some things that would be down right awesome...others, not so much...so a little note here or there viewing your thoughts (nicely please...snarky and sarcastic is amusing...down right nasty will be disregarded) and constructive criticism would be appreciated.The names the boys use for their FBI personas, Gabriel (Sam) and Collins (Dean), are taken from Season 10 episode 11 There's No Place like Home. Oh, and by the way, if you haven't already figured this out, this story is not canon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **As always, Twilight and Supernatural original plot and characters belong to their respective owners. The rest belongs to me.

**Chapter 4**

Dean is impressed.

Chief Swan's investigation into the murders of the Stanleys and Jefferson was very thorough. His respect for the man shot up when he caught their silent communication when the sulfur was mentioned and called them out on it. Aside from hunters, the good ones anyway, no one had caught on to the Winchesters' silent communication before. If he didn't know better, he would peg Chief Swan for a hunter.

He investigated like one.

They would need to be careful around the Chief during this hunt.

The information Chief Swan gave them was a hell of a lot more than they normally got from the small town cops. The thoroughness of his investigation was enough for them to easily figure out the culprit was a demon. The only thing he and Sammy had left to do was figure out what type of demon they were dealing with and then figure out how to stop it before it struck again.

Going over the crime scene pics again, Dean's eyes narrow. Driving through town he had not noticed any other homes or buildings with those flowers near or around them. Hell, when they drove up to the Fork's motel there was only a small cluster of them...

Standing abruptly from the table littered with the crime scene reports and pictures, Dean hurriedly walks out the door with Sam's startled "Dean, where are you going?" floating behind him.

Another set of footsteps follow him out the door and over to the room where Jefferson was murdered. Turning from the door to face the parking lot, Dean stares down at the patch of flowers growing directly in front of the room.

"Sammy, those flowers look familiar to ya?"

"No" a confused Sam replies, "should they?" he asks.

Without a word Dean hands over the picture of the Stanleys' home he still has clutched in his hand and kneels down to take a closer look. "Did you see these growing anywhere else in town when we passed through earlier?"

Frowning, Sam studies the picture. "No, not that I recall" he answers, "do you think the demon is leaving these behind?" Sam asks.

"They smell like vanilla" Dean says.

…...

"Achlys"

"What?" Dean asks looking up from his laptop.

"Achlys" Sam repeats.

"Actually what? Dean replies confusedly.

"Not 'actually' Dean" Sam replies, rolling his eyes, "Achlys, as in the plant that we found in front of the Stanleys' house and in front of the motel" Sam says turning his laptop to show Dean a picture of the plant, "also known as deer's foot, sweet after death, and vanilla leaf. Its native to North America and Japan."

"Okay...is that the poison this thing leaves behind in the vics?" Dean asks.

"That's just it. Its not poisonous. In fact, native tribes use it as an insect repellent and its not unheard of for hikers to rub its leaves on exposed skin to repel mosquitoes and flies" Sam says, turning the laptop back to him.

"There any lore surrounding that flower" Dean asks, frowning as he types Achlys into the search engine on his laptop.

"Who the hell names their kid Achlys" he says a few seconds later.

Sam rolls his eyes and sifts through the information on his laptop.

"Here we go" Sam says.

"You got something Sammy?" Dean asks as Sam frowns at his laptop. "You gonna share with the class or just stare at the screen all day?"

"Achlys."

"Yes," Dean rolls his eyes as he continues, "we established that that's the name of the plants at the crime scenes" his features morph into a frown, "and apparently the name of some kids with crappy parents. I mean seriously, who names their kid Achlys. It sounds like 'actually', so what, when they call the kid its gonna be 'actually, actually come h

"DEAN"

"what?"

Sighing Sam says, "Achlys, as in the daimon Achlys, who _might_ be the goddess of poisons and possibly one of the Keres"

"A what?"

"Keres, they were female spirits of violent or cruel deaths, so pretty much the spirit of a death that was in any way not peaceful. They were said to be the agents of the Fates who measure the lifespan of men from the moment of their birth. They ripped the souls from the mortally wounded and sent them on their way to the afterlife. They are said to crave blood and feast upon it after the soul has been removed from the body. There are thousands of Keres and normally they haunt the battlefields but if their hunger for blood becomes too much they will defy Fate and kill those whose time is not yet come. It seems only Zeus and the other gods could stop them or move them on their way."

"Well they sound cheerful. So Achlys is a Keres, how do we gank her?" Dean asks.

"She _**might**_ be a Keres. There's really not all that much info on her. She _**might**_ be the goddess of poisons, the Moon and night, and the daughter of Nyx, the Greek goddess/personification of night whom Zeus feared."

"There anything we _**do**_ know about her?" Dean asks exasperatedly.

"The only thing that everyone seems to agree on is that she is the personification of misery and sadness, she is extremely ancient, as in the first created being, created before Chaos, and her appearance; pale, emaciated body, always weeping, long nails, swollen knees, chattering teeth, bloody cheeks, and shoulders covered in a thick layer of dust."

"She sounds delightful." Dean snorts, "how do we find her?"

"I have no idea."

**Author's note: **Just in case your wondering, the soundtrack for this story (as in the music that helps me write this story) is "Story of Pandora Vol. 4 ǀ Evgeny Emelyanov – Emotional Beautiful Uplifting" by Pandora Journey. If you have not already found the awesomeness that is Pandora Journey on youtube, then I strongly suggest you go check out Pandora's mixes.

So...I know I said an update about every 2 weeks...yeah, lets go with an update 'bout once a month instead.

See that box at the bottom? Yeah, that big...ish one? Its for reviews, ya know, for leaving little drops of encouragement, wisdom, maybe a bit o'l constructive criticism. Last time I checked I'm still not a mind reader.


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